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After Chandra finished his ritual duties, he knows that it is time to teleport across the ocean, back to Sherlock’s domicile … and so his two feet arrives upon the cobble stones of Baker Street, within a wink of an eye, and he drifts through a small crack in the window sill, like a wisp of fog, and he duly appears before Sherlock in a slightly visible ethereal body … and then, sitting opposite Sherlock’s confounded facial expression, Chandra said, “Namaste Lord Sherlock,

“Take a look at this drop of water,” continued Chandra, as he takes an eyedropper from his coat and squeezes a drop onto the table’s top. “You asked me about man’s eternal soul, well, there are hundreds of thousands of microscopic organisms swimming around in this drop of water, and yes, they too have souls, just as the huge body of an elephant has a similar soul of the same size. Whether the body be huge or infinitesimal, the soul within floods the entire body with consciousness.”

Sherlock reaches for something in a drawer, and Chandra says, “Put away your magnifying glass, Sherlock, it will not allow you to see these souls, nor can you see the bodies of these tiny creatures swimming around in their vast world of liquidity. I have teleported into the far future, and I have looked at specimens through their powerful microscopes, and still the soul is invisible to our eyes, because the soul is one ten-thousandth the tip of a hair, and thus invisible to our eyes.”

“Sometimes the path can be a little bumpy in the beginning,” whispered Chandra into Sherlock’s ear.

“We can converse person to person, no need for whispers,” said Sherlock.

After a long pause, Chandra continued, “the path most often requires one to discard baggage that prevents the seeker from flying upward into the heavenly realms …”

“And this means that I must discard something … what?” implored Sherlock.

“Let me narrate a story which illustrates this situation of shedding things that hinder,” offered Chandra, and he told a story thus;

“Once upon a time, on the peripheral edge of the Bermuda Triangle, there rested an exotic bird paradise on a celestial island in the sea.

“Bermuda Triangle?” wondered Sherlock…

“Yes, this triangle was known by men to be a cursed area of the sea, off the coast of Bermuda, and was always a great mystery to man, as many boats and aeroplanes have disappeared after entering it’s domain. The truth is, this area is a conduit, it is like a wormhole, or a portal that teleports whoever enters, and transports them into other dimensions, other lands, other planets, into different eras, into different centuries.

What is on the “other side?”

“That island on the edge of this Bermuda wormhole, was populated by exotic birds who happily lived in peace for centuries, because it was protected by the curse of that triangle, and humans feared the reputation of “they who enters nare ever return.” Thus that abode of the exotic birds flourished, until one day a wooden ship appeared like a bad dream, with it’s black flag of skull-and-cross-bones flapping in the wind. The birds turned their colorful necks to observe this ship, full of black-bearded pirates, who then proceeded to do what man does best…”

And Chandra paused a few moments, as Sherlock’s eye-brows arched, as if to say, “what, pray tell, what is it, that man does best?”

“The very thing that man, the two legged animal, does best … is to kill every living creature that lay within his wicked eyesight…”

“Why does man delight in killing? This is because he is not in harmony with the creative golden spiral of the universe. He cannot create anything wondrous with his two clumsy hands … therefore he is envious of all that has beauty … envious of all that flows with the magical Fibonacci numbers, he is disharmonious with all that is seen in the golden ratio of the divine proportions of creation,

and all he can do, is to use his gift of free will, and wrongly choose to kill that which he fears, that which is beyond his comprehension. And thus he thinks his crude murder of life to be a sort of brutish creativity … like it is some kind of esoteric work of art … but it is only his fear and hatred of God’s immaculate creation.”

“And so,” continued Chandra, “the beautiful birds resided in caves etched within the side of a great mountain, and thus Blackbeard and his motley crew of pirates proceeded to fire their man’o-war cannon balls at the near mountain, which decimated the nests of unsuspecting birds, who raised a squalor of protest.”

The Condor’s only hope of survival from the pirate’s fiery assault was to fly up the sheer walls of the vertical face of the mountain, up to the lofty peaks without hesitation, … but alas, those condors who were attached to their nest and eggs, and tried to secure either nest or eggs held in their talons, they could not make the vertical ascent as quickly, being burdened down’, and they could not escape the cannon balls exploding all about the mountain face, and they fell down to death, while the Condors who flew without a second thought, leaving all behind, only they lived … so, the moral of the story, is that when the house is on fire, rhe survivor exits, to reach the goal, sometimes he must leave cherished attachments behind. That is what the moral of the story seems to be telling … but then again, things are not always what they seem.”

“There is nothing more deceptive than obvious facts,” said Sherlock, quoting one of his favorite axioms.

After assimilating all of this elaborate elucidation, Sherlock suggested, “Yes, it may seem that the birds that flew off were selfish, just trying to save themselves … and those who tried to save the nest, bore true nobility of heart, possessing a true moral compass.

“But, from another viewpoint, it may be said that in order for one to save himself from imminent danger, the situation may preclude the giving up of one’s attachments, to first save yourself, then go back and save others.”

To this, Chandra said, “Sometimes you can’t save others until you first save yourself … but that is not what really happened! The most common mistake people make, is to smugly think that our particular species of homo sapiens is more intelligent than animals who live in so-called primitive ages … and so it may come as a shock to our big brains, to discover that primitive animals possess the ability to proffer a challenge to one’s so-called modern intelligence.

“And so, keeping that in mind … this is what really happened:”

Some of the Condors pretended to be dead, laying there still, in the nests … while the other Condors flew upward into the clouds, until they became tiny specks in the sky before merging into the clouds. To which the Pirates laughed loudly, and hurled insults up into the skies, crying out;

The Pirates thought they were gone, until they heard a faint wailing noise, way up in the sky,

getting louder and louder … and before they could discern the reality of what was about to happen, a multitude of Condors suddenly materializing out of thin air, and they came swooping down with talons extended, claws eager to dig deep into the backs of the terrified Pirates, who ran here and there, some being picked up in the air with the Condor’s talons so sharp and strong, and firmly embedded into the bleeding backs of hapless pirates, and some were dropped into the ocean, as other terrified pirates ran all about, helter skelter, while the Condors ripped up their sails, tore down their masts, and overturned fires and kegs of oil, which set the ship ablaze.

As the wooden ship became a blazing inferno, more pirates came running out of the bowels of the ship, some jumping into the churning water and swimming ashore, where they lay exhausted on the beach for a long time. After gathering their wits, they looked around, and gazed up into the sky, and they thought that the Condors were gone, and they breathed deeply with great relief and gratitude … and then after a long while, a low and distant growl summoned their attention, and looking towards that alarming sound, they saw small specs on the distant shore, specs that grew larger and larger, until the true shapes began to manifest … and to their utter dismay, the pirates found themselves confronted with a pack of snarling and hungry wolves …

great grey wolves much larger than ever seen in Europe. Both pirates and wolves stood there staring at each other, the men frozen, afraid to run, and then the whole pack moved simultaneously, just a mere inch, which set off sheer panic throughout the bodies of the terrified pirates, and they all turned and ran for dear life.”

It’s the fuehrer-ocious inferno dude, who’s kleaning kampf-karma, with a scoundrel scheme to avoid unfortunate metamorphose, they take a wanderlust walkabout, in the land of light-bearing crystal gifts and velvet poems, and halo-wreathed monks meditating in the midst of oceanic waves of cacophonous howling, and indigo clouds blooming above, and you can be in my dream, if I can be in yours … because the Tambourine man told me so.

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“Its dreamland in the old homestead once again folks,” thus whispered the corny voice in Jeb’s head. He found himself in continuance of the last episode, as if only a few minutes had past. He and Jehrom and Sreejinn were there, same place, same conversation … and Aristo is floating around them like a starship in orbit. Aristotle, the space dog, is silently flying in circles, doing recognizance of the perimeters, making sure no undesirable spirits are lurking about on the fringe. Sreejinn then told his story to a mystified Jeb and Jehrom;

“This all happened,” said Sreejinn, “not so long ago, and then again, it was a long, long time ago, the story of the long life of myself, or they knew me back then as … Asvatta. It sounds like a fairy-tale story, well … that’s sort of what it is.

“The place was known as Bharta Varsa in ancient times, now it’s known as India. The time period was not that long ago, say around the mid 1940’s or so…

“Of course, my friend Jeb, you are wondering how that is possible, seeing how that would make me an old geezer. That’s part of the story, the ongoing saga of Asvatta, the ancient wanderer … let me begin.

“He awakened that morning and dressed, did his morning duties, and started walking. Asvatta, the wanderer of endless time and space … began another dawn of destiny.

“He followed the voice within, just as he always did countless times in the past. This time the voice told him to walk to the north, to go to Kashmir, and trek into the mountains. He traveled along the bank of the Ganges, passing hermitages and sages on mats of kusa grass, some with white holy markings on their foreheads, and some with shaved heads, and some with long matted hair, some with eyes closed in deep meditation, and some murmuring on prayer beads. All sages appeared to be in a trance, oblivious to the outside world.

“He finally reached the town of Hardwar and entered the perimeters, following a crowd of pilgrims. Seeing a commotion ahead, he wormed through the crowd, to see what was going on. There he pushed to the front of the crowd, and saw a band of foreigners upon the path. They were strangely attired with European coats and the swastika symbol on sleeve, curiously pointing in a clock-wise direction. Asvatta had seen this sign many times at Vedic sacrifices, in the proper counter clock direction. This, he thought, is what caused all the commotion. Asvatta suddenly felt a pang of distress run through his body, which seemed to be invisible barbs of energy coming from the enigmatic figure of the leader.

“Asvatta approached the group and inquired as to why they donned this symbol. He stood patiently as a soldier conveyed his question to the leader, who then turned around to examine him. His eyes penetrated the wanderer for a good amount of time and then the leader said something into the ear of the servant. His servant then walked up to Asvatta, relaying a message from his master, that he would be pleased to have his company for dinner, shortly. Asvatta gave his acceptance, as he glanced back to the master, who was still surveying him with an incisive gaze.

“Asvatta entered the master’s tent and sat cross-legged before his desk.

“Pleased to meet you,” said Asvatta with polished English. “Asvatta is my name.”

“Yes, pardon, Adolf’s my name, world conquest’s my game,” he said with a jab at humor. It seemed that Asvatta possessed a chameleon charm to swing an ashen gravity mood to a copasetic hue of mirth.

“The master continued, “As they say in the western world, I’m head-honcho of the superman tribe … and some people are trying to make me the head-less honcho, heh heh.”

“Ah,” said Asvatta, “A refreshing spot of humor there, after what you’ve been through.…”

“Being serious all the time can get you killed, you know.” the master said.

“In more ways than we can know.”

“I’m just a regular guy like everybody else. I got problems like other people do.”

“I can imagine that’s so … well.”

“Then the master turned a shade more serious and said, “A stranger I am … in your land, searching for a guide, seeking astral advise from planets and signs…”

“We’ll see what we can do.”

“I am in need of knowing … things of the future,” he continued, “I’ve tried other methods of divination, the ancient Teutonic practice of pouring lead for prediction, mandalas, astrologers, seers….”

“Inquiry? … into the ways of providence?”

“Yes. Barely escaping coup de’tat, I slipped away to India, looking for astrologers … those who see into the future.”

“Fortunate you are,” said Asvatta. “To arrive at the right place and exactly at the right time. India is more than snake charmers, some adepts hold the science of the stars within the palm of their hands … the art of divination. Thank your lucky stars, one such astrologer sits before you.”

“The master’s eyes sparkled with this information, and said, “I barely escaped with a thread of life. Assassins seemed to shoot up out of the dark. What lies ahead?”

“Let us survey your palm, and we’ll see how the future waxes in the stars.”

“The stone cold eyes of the master widened in anticipation, as he gazed evenly upon his company, and said, “I slipped into your country incognito, with a few friends and guards. Things have turned for the worst. I need guidance from the seers. Enemies pummel at my door.”

After a brief hesitation, the master scrutinized his visitor and said in a low tone, “Besides the astral consultation, I am also in search of something valuable, a spear reputed to be of divine powers.”

“Asvatta’s arching eyebrows seemed to say, “What spear is this?” and then he said, “I thought you already had one.”

“But there’s another, it’s said to be infused with the power of a demigod, and two are better than one. Anyway, we’ll talk of that later.” After a pause, the master said with raised eyebrows, “You seem to know a lot about me…”

“We have our ways. Some adepts of India do very well seeing into the future … we have no need for crystal balls.”

“Asvatta took a few minutes to do his calculations. It was obvious that he was a master at his craft by the speed of his mathematical prowess. “So, we see, by your sudden fate line change, and by examination of jhotir, I … I am fain to say, I am the harbinger of foul news, Herr Fuehrer.”

“His eyes turned plaintive, seeming to say, “Out with it….”

“There is no doubt of it, this life, alas, the curtain may be dropping, the final act commences, the fat lady singeth, the last of the Mohicans drops the hatchet, just as the sun sets exactly on time,

setting also in the East this time, everything ends on it’s own schedule, all good things come to an end, as will the war and…..”

“Adolf’s eyes flashed with a penetration that could wilt the snows of Mount Everest. The thought of being hurled from the tent by the mere heat in those eyes, crossed Asvatta’s mind.

“What means thou by Mohican hatchet? The sun sets when?”

“Never mind, sorry about that, please Herr Fuehrer, kindly contain the heat in thine eyes, burn me not … it is no one’s fault, this happens to every man, in due course of time….”

“You’re right,” said the man, “it happens to every man, you are right, sorry, it’s just that so many plans are unfulfilled,” and then he turned down the burning gaze … which flickered and went cold.

“Then Asvatta said, “Every man says that at the end, how his plans are undone.” Somehow Asvatta regained the master’s confidence, and cast his chart again, and encouraged him, saying “Do not protest too much, Herr Fuehrer, plans may be foiled in the here and now, but they might be rekindled and they just may well turn out again … on the other side.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is … nobody ever really dies … when death occurs, one is sure to be reborn, and adjustments can be made, with help from those on the other side.”

“I have heard of the soul, from your ancient texts, some I have read. And there are helpers from the other side, you say, but how is that going to help me and my plans?”

“I see from your chart, your next birth may have its consequences, but your consciousness will remain intact. And with one’s original mind intact, one may still promote one’s designs.”

“How so?”

“You may again take it up … where you left off.”

“How is it possible?”

“Have you heard of yogis?, and how they have this power … called mystic power?”

“Yes, I’ve heard many tales of this, in your land,” said the Fuehrer, “they live for hundreds of years. They can become smaller than an insect or as large as whales, or change their shape to any form, or travel to the sun or moon in an instant. I have heard.”

“It is all true, I assure you. Here’s the deal. I only ask for a little faith, that’s all.”

“Well, ok, I guess I don’t have many options, do I?”

“You shall procure someone … who can follow you into the other side….”

“To the other side?”

“Yes, this is possible. A yogi can follow…”

“Herr Hitler said, “So what is to happen, am I to convince some such yogi to … uh, follow me, or meet me there, or what?”

“I will consult you on how. One such yogi could possibly save you from unfortunate metamorphose.”

“How can that be? Can karma be changed?”

“He may well do that. Just as one such yogi is adept at shape-change, he could help you in a similar fashion. He could clean up your karma. You might begin your campaign again.”

“Herr Hitler’s face perked up a little.

“You are in luck, you can go to Kumbha Mela and search out such a yogi, I will direct you.”

“His eyes gave answer enough. Agitation gone, they again shone with a misty vision … eyes that shine in the truth of astrology and the mystic sciences, eyes that behold the horizon, with which to burn enemies, and see death and rebirth, which foresees victory in the hereafter.”

As they passed by way of the eucalyptus trees, Jeb felt the wind rustling through the tree branches like an eerie song … just as a hawk sliced through the trees, projecting a batman-like lunar silhouette — a kodak-moment on the orange surface of the moon orb.

They came within reach of the sea cliffs and the cool ocean air carried a familiar salty tang to Jeb’s nostrils. The air breathed damp … and the breaking waves of the high tide splashed the rocks below with a tumultuous roar. The crashing waves made such an alluring sound that Jeb was irresistibly drawn into the din. He and Aristotle pursued the pounding clamor up the edge of the cliff and Jeb stood at the edge and stared at the white frothing waves pounding the rocks … the waves exploding with silvery whiteness, all due to the waxing moonbeams shining brightly above the sea.

It seemed that Jeb was all alone with the moon and sea and Aristotle, just the four of them sharing a secret. Jeb felt something strange and undeniable. He heard voices in the air, whole groups of voices, struggling, and frantically trying to get somewhere. He fought off a strange urge to leap and fly out from the cliff and glide like a seagull over the breaking waves, or to soar up to the moon like a god. He was taken aback by these strange thoughts, and shook his head in total bafflement.

His eyes caught the image of some large object on the rocks. It was hard to see, but he strained his eyes and finally realized it to be the limp body of a deer, its body crushed on the rocks. Jeb was shocked to recognize such misfortune. He was sure that the deer was not there before, just a short hour ago when he stood at the same spot to see the sunset. Now he can understand how tragedy can indeed come without any warning, in the most eerie places, and yet, in the most beautiful scenery. How could an agile deer fall to its death? They are animals of sure foot and most dexterous of any species.

Seemingly, the forces of the elements had drawn the beautiful thing to fall by the sheer beckoning power of its magnitude. Sort of like Jeb’s absurd feeling to jump and fly. As a vortex may allure and draw a passerby into its funnel, by sheer magical conjuring, so Jeb could feel the uncanny magnetism of this untamed scenery. He felt a compelling force that tugged at his frame. The power was coming from the strange rock formation below, with sea swirling all about. The sea and moon and rocks and waves had pulled like some powerful sorcerer upon the poor deer and forced her down to the hungry rocks, which appeared as huge teeth eager to chew on some tasty morsel of life.

The whole scene appeared to Jeb as if it were some gigantic monster with one eye. The moon was his eye, the rocks his teeth, the waves his tongue, the sound of crashing his bellowing, the salty breeze his breath, the deep sea his belly. He was a huge monster, trying to suck him down into a tragic fate … yet an alluring and splendid monster at that.

Jeb reeled as he thought of his urge to jump and fly like a bird. He felt dizzy and backed away from the edge in strange trepidation and fear of falling off the precipice into the monster’s gaping mouth. His head swooned as his legs bent like rubber and he dropped down to sit and catch his breath and grapple for his sense of balance. His wild imagination made him feel as if the sea breeze could suddenly suck him out and over the cliff face at any time, or else the cliff could just break off by the magnetic power of this thing, and hurl him to his death.

Aristotle sat next to him and looked at him with concern.

“It’s ok Aristo, I just had the strangest dream thoughts, more like a nightmare … how strange! What tricks the mind can play! No worry though, since I got my ole buddy here with me,” he reached out to pet his dog. Aristotle panted and appeared to smile like dogs seem to do, making Jeb feel secure. He got up with effort and walked off with Aristotle.

The wind seemed to sing a song like a siren that beckoned him to please come back and jump into the sea and play around like a kid in his wading pool. Jeb shook off the crazy thought and turned back to the path. He took a few steps, assuring himself that he was all right, but fear flew about his head like belfry bats.

He thought … “Just forget it man … all crazy stuff … just a bunch of unreal crapola!

Come on ole Jeb boy, let’s get back, back to the real world, you can do it, I know you … you’re the boy who can philosophize the world away, so let’s get some dignity back, and forget this hocus-pocus fiasco of the mind!”

But the power of some unseen force persisted in pulling him back to the edge of the precipice … and then he understood, and he muttered, “Ok, so maybe I’ve been a jerk … maybe I was a little cruel to the cat, and my sister loved her, and I wish both their forgiveness…” Aristotle looked up at him just at that moment, just to confirm what he was thinking.

The dark force then kindly released its vise-like stranglehold grip, and Jeb let out a long sigh of relief.

Aristotle then gave him that look of all-knowing canine intuition….

“That’s right Aristo, and if you say so, then it must be true … Heh heh

Comments & Q’s welcome 🙂 contact at bottom … also, for best view, zoom in a few clicks 🙂

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A tiny kitten snuggled up to her momma, and mentally purred, “Mommy, how does Sanjay know all these things about humans?”

“Well Pinky, you know that most humans don’t have the gift we felines have, which is the ability to telepathickly communicate … to say and hear what we think in our minds, to read other’s minds, and read the human mind. Humans don’t have a clue of this, even though their pets are telling them all the time, like with body language, but humans just don’t get it. They’re not so bright some times. There are a few that have the gift, like the young girl.

“Well, our Sanjay, he possesses our gift a hundred times more than all of us put together. He does what is called “channeling” where he tunes into the human’s brains, sees everything in their minds, at a distance, when they gather information from their books and their electrical boxes, those square gizmos that have moving images of animals and things. Sanjay says that some humans are addicted to these boxes, which they watch day and night.

Sanjay sees all that stuff on the boxes, these things called TVs. They switch around on their TV and tune into things called channels. Sanjay channels the different channels of their TVs, especially the history channel and educational channels, as well as the books which the brighter humans read, and as they gather information, Sanjay also gathers his information, that’s how he knows so much about humans.

“Ditterostra is Sanjay’s old friend, and he constantly inquires from Sanjay, as Ditter has always been curious about the outside world. Being blind from birth, Ditterostra’s handicap had always piqued his curiosity to know about everything out there in the world. And Sanjay is always telling of this world, via his channeling, to his old friend, and some of us listen as well, and we tell others. They always talk about the humans and their world, and their wars. Ditter is especially curious about the wars. I’ve heard my share of these stories … strange animals, these humans.

“Sanjay says that we cats, and humans, and all animals, we all live on this gigantic clump of dirt and trees and water, a very large, round ball … which is speeding around and around, in great circles called orbits … it’s racing around in a great dark sky, called outer space.

This gigantic ball is called planet earth, and although humans are supposedly masters of this earth, they are always having some war going on, battles between lands of people, they call nations. And so these conflicts are always raging on planet earth. Sometimes they have small wars; sometimes they have these big huge wars, called global conflicts. Although they claim to be intellectually superior, still their big brains can’t figure out how to share their world with all the lands of nations, though they’ve had many eons of the passage of time to think it out. They are supposed to be the king of animals, although you’d never know it from what they do to each other. They just can’t stop fighting to be top dog, to be crowned king of the hill, to be the lords of all they survey on this giant ball speeding round and round, the world they call planet earth. That’s what Sanjay tells us.

“Sanjay said that some day he wants to channel some communiqués through this girl, to the humans, and he is going to tell them what he thinks of their so-called civilized race … purrrrr”

High on some branch, the hawk nodded his head, and he then understood the mystery behind the superior intelligence of this feline colony, and he offered this comment, “And then again, who’s going to believe a gothic teen, who says she’s channeling a wild cat from the woods? I mean, that’s really taking a long walk on the far side. As we know, so many humans have spoken and written the same brand of peace and love philosophy throughout the ages, and still there is as much evil in the world as ever before. What’s she going to say, something like…. “Yeah, humans are so cruel, so on and so on … and what is war good for? Absolutely nothing. And how do I know? The voices in the woods, they told me so … and the wise leaders of humanity, they will learn?”

“Yeah, but,” said another voice, “Our nature is to say what is right, even if its redundant … even if it makes little difference…”

“Tread Lightly” Roars the Nocturnal Lion

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Chapter 4 of “Sherlock Holmes and the Tweaking of Time”

Let us remember what Moriarty said at the end of chapter 2:

”Oh,” said Moriarty, “Then I will threaten your spiritual guide, my men will kill your guru if you try to cheat me … not only that, they will torture him sufficiently before ending his life … do I make myself perfectly clear?”

And now, chapter 4

Moriarty stumbles around the room, bumping into chairs, spilling his cognac on expensive Persian hand-woven rugs. He swoons, feeling very disoriented, his eyes staring off into space, his mouth agape, as if he had just witnessed something wonderful, or something very terrible.

Wolfgang tendered a query with a thin smile, “It seems you had a visitor last night, am I correct?”

Moriarty replied, “Yes, many strange things happened last night, many wondrous things, I will tell the whole account, as I remember….”

Wolfgang implores, “Please tell us everything, we are fascinated…..”

And so Moriarty began his narration;

“Sitting in my favorite chair, I was reading “Voyages Extraordinaires” by Jules Verne, and after a sudden inspiration, I ordered my men to summon the monks, and bring them forthwith … and soon, after a moment’s notice, the orange-clad anchorites appeared upon the scene, smiling, standing serenely in the middle of my humongous library that beautified the west wing of my vast mansion.”

“Chandra, being eager to speak, said this unto me, “My dear Herr Moriarty, your time machine is virtually near to being ready, for to transport you far away, into distant times of India’s enchanting history. We built the machine in the heart of the Bavarian forest, just a scant 10 miles from your mansion … and so, we should transfer you to that location, without delay.”

“And so I issued a loud command, vibrating in all directions … let us proceed to our time machine and I shall take a little jaunt back into the eons of antiquity!”

“And so, my loyal minions snapped into action, grabbing guns and supplies as we all boarded our vehicles and drove madly up a winding road, into the Bavarian forest….

“After we drove for a long while, we entered into the heart of the Bavarian forest, and up ahead we saw a faint glimmer of the structure, and after a few minutes, we pulled our vehicles onto the entrance road, went through some gigantic cedar trees, and came into full vision of this brightly painted time machine, shining magnificently like a jewel within the thick foliage of the forest. It sparkled like a diamond, embellished with elegant arches, and decorated with scantly dressed statues and gargoyles along the rooftop.

“I smiled in anticipation, as Chandra’s workers applied the final touches. My henchmen stood around the spectacle, their mouths agape, their eyes fascinated with these oriental workers, with their dark, blackish skin, standing naked except for thin rags around their loins. Some wore brightly colored towels around their mid-sections. Their well-oiled black hair sported top knots, fixed upon the crest of their heads, which bobbed side to side, right in time to their rapid chanting of some Sanskrit mantras … their skilled hands giving the finishing touches on this architectural masterpiece.

“As my servants backed away from the time chamber, I entered the time portal, and pushing one of the brightly colored buttons on the control panel, hence I was teleported without delay into a swirling wormhole …

which propelled me through luminous space, and showered a multifarious array of out-of-this-world wicked images shooting all about me from all directions … objects whizzing past my eyes with super-velocity speeds … thereafter, I entered a world of phantasmagoria, of beautiful flowered vessels flying about the heavens, floating in cris-cross patterns all about the dark-blue sky….

“Finally, after a timeless wandering in space, so it seemed, I was allowed entrance into the ancient land of Bharata Varsa, commonly known as India … a land abounding with exotic fruit trees and flower trees decorating the streets and parks of the city. Men and women strolled about the stalls of the town markets, wearing garments studded with gold and rubies.

“After walking down a dusty road, I saw several temples on both sides of the road, each temple supporting numerous statues adorning the walls and roof and large entrances, I presumed them to be icons of many gods, displaying many god-like powers. occasionally, there would be sadhus sitting by the side of the road, playing a flute to charm cobras with sinister hoods and evil looking, red beady eyes, they would rise up from a basket, in a hypnotic swaying movement.

“I flagged down a rickshaw, of which I boarded, and asked the driver to show me the town, and off we went, down the road …

“Soon we came upon a herd of pure white cows grazing on green grass, all carefree … and the rickshaw walla told me that these cows were Surabhi cows, and they were sometimes decorated with jewels and mineral paints from the minerals of Govardhan hill, and sometimes they have gold-plated horns, and bells hanging around their necks, by suspension of silk neck ties.

“Then I said how these cows looked so delicious, and I could eat a steak right now … and how this rickshaw man protested! He was horrified to hear this, and his face got all twisted out of shape, and he yelled at me, “how dare you say that about our beautiful Surabhi cows!”

“What’s wrong with eating cows?” I said, “In our modern times, in our great civilization, we eat them all the time … and nobody is protesting….”

“And then the rickshaw walla lets go of my carriage, and he screams “the horrors of Kali-yuga!!” and then he runs away and abandons me! And then my carriage careens out of control! … and it is racing into oblivion, at high speed, and then it hits, wham, into a tree! And I go flying off the rickshaw and land on my back!

“I sit there stunned, and a micro-moment later, this wicked cobra appears out of the blue, coiled before me, ready to strike, his hot red eyes staring into mine … I shudder, my eyes forced shut with fear … I wait for hot fangs to penetrate my skin, and a moment later, to my sheer luck … a mongoose sweeps in out of nowhere, his eager teeth are sinking lustily into the cobra’s neck, and they both are thrashing about, and the mongoose conquers the cobra’s pride, as he snaps the snake’s neck with a loud audible “Pop!”… and the cobra’s body lies limp on the ground, amidst the riotous cheers of villagers who gathered to watch the contest…

“Then, I look around, and villagers are running by me, yelling, “run bubba, as fast as you can, sahib, because there’s a man-eating tiger running through the village, and he’s coming this way, run!”

“So I turned, and looked backward to see tigers and panthers running right behind me, with wild eyes and gnashing teeth … leading the pact was a large tiger, running very swiftly and gracefully in my direction, as fear petrified my body … I tried to run, but couldn’t move a muscle, I was frozen, immobile, watching the harbinger of death sure to end my life right here and now on a dusty Indian road, my flesh devoured by a huge man-eating tiger … and somehow within my mind, a voice whispered, “fitting karma, eh? You eat the cow, and the wild animal eats you! One life is forfeit for another life taken, the cosmic scales of karma will always even the score!”

“Somehow I get my body to move and I turn to run, and just then, the Tiger jumps right over me and pounces, with claws extended, upon the cowering body of another man, and quickly devouring flesh, off his screaming carcass, right before my eyes! Such abhorrence caused my mind to snap, and I was hurled into a pitch-black darkness, as if my brief candle was snuffed out, leaving everything to a complete blackout … then a faint voice came rising from the sub-stratus of my mind, and it meekly beggars the question, “What is this place? where am I? Who has created this nightmare of insanity? It is balmy-on-the-crumpet to be sure! … I see pale visions of ghouls, snakes and wicked phantoms, lurking in the shadows!”

“I turn to escape, to get out of here, run somewhere, anywhere but here! But something stops my flight, something far more terrifying than a wild tiger … something of a feline manifestation, yes, a huge cat-like face with a huge flowing mane, no … it is a Lion of gargantuan proportions! Yes, it is a gigantic Lion King! The King of all carnivorous creatures that haunt the nightmare dreams of man!”

“Then a flash of brilliant light flooded the landscape and the heavens up above, whiteness everywhere, nothing to be seen but this all-pervading white light, that somehow gave me a smidgen of hope, that I might survive … this can’t be real!

“This must be a dream! … and there spread all about the forest, an intense fragrance of exotic flowers, that filled the atmosphere with the most amazing fragrance, just as this Lion King phantom stood directly over me, His hot fury breath, blowing like a desert cyclone, right in my face … but, this Lion breath gave no edificatory displeasure, rather in fact, It’s breath contained the sweetest fragrance….

“This ferocious Lion appeared to be very hungry, licking His chops … looking at me like I was the main course of a smorgasbord feast, and He stood over me waving his huge arms, His body adorned with many glittering jewels and flowers about His neck, He roared with such ferocity; “How dare you! My eternal servants are more dear to Me than my life, and you think you can threaten them without consequence! I will tear you apart!!”

“As the Lion King towered over my shaking frame, His razor-sharp claws prickled upon my bare chest, after having ripped my stately shirt to shreds … those extended claws appeared to be very much eager to rip my entrails out, and wrap them around my trembling neck … this ghastly vision seemed to be projected from the Lion, into my terrified mind … His hot breath bellows in my face, but paradoxically, it carries a very sweet heavenly scent, like Jasmine and lotus flowers … His red-hot eyes bore into my brain, and he roared, “One more negatory threat served upon My dear servants … and I will tear you limb from limb, and garland your neck with your intestines! Do not provoke Me!”

“That’s it, that’s all I remember … and I still don’t know if this was a dream, or if it really happened? But … when I look in a mirror … I see deep scratch marks across my bare chest!!!”

“I’ve read the philosophers,” muttered Jeb to himself, “one after another, and it leaves a hole, all I get is just an inkling. What is this existence called life? What is it all about? I need to know before I’m snuffed. What am I here for? I have to know. Happiness … what is it? Go to school, find a girl, get married, have kids, watch em’ grow up and leave ya, grow senile, the end. What’s that? They call it happiness … not sure about that. I get little smidgens of something out there, just behind the wall. There’s a small crack in the wall and I barely get a glimpse. What is it? Some big ocean of something, just under the skin of illusion, I just have to break on through to that other side, find the key to that door of perception. The philosophers are just guessing, that’s all. They don’t know a croc about it. They only know the ramblings of their mind. I know if that door opens, a great flood of light and color and music will pour out. I’ve seen it in dreams, in the outer regions of my sub-consciousness. Someday I will kiss the hallowed soil of the promised land … this I know…”

In this 2nd installment of “Rory’s Chemical Incarceration” we find Rory talking to his three imaginary friends, namely Albert Einstein and Sir Isaac Newton, and Steven Hawkins, and this is where Rory introduces the “law of confusion. The “law of confusion” is a very interesting concept, I didn’t make it up, as we have several references for it, especially in Sadaputa’s book, “Alien Identities,” and there’s a hint of it in Bhagavad-Gita and Jaiva-dharma. I think devotees will find the subject of “the law of confusion” to be quite interesting, and there will be more commentary at the end of this page.

Back to the story – Rory says,

“There’s another smart guy, Dan Brown, I’ve read a few of his books, and he wrote some very prophetic words;

“We have barely scratched the surface of our mental and spiritual capabilities … the scientific wisdom of the ancients is staggering, modern physics is only now beginning to comprehend it all, there will come a day when modern science begins in earnest to study the wisdom of the ancients, that will be the day that mankind begins to find answers to the big questions that still elude him.”

“Did I mention that I’ve read all the books in our library, every one at least 3 times, maybe more, and some local monks are always donating books to our library, truckloads of books, and I have a photographic memory of all those books. I talk with these monks also, they come here, now and then, in their saffron robes.”

“Yes, you have mentioned that,” said Albert, “however, I too have read many books of the Vedas and commentaries of the British Indologists, and their world seems to be mythical fantasy to our rational minds. There are similar fantastic things in the other religions as well.”

“Yes, it may seem that way,” said Rory, “and that is the exact intention of the ancients! Sometimes, they create fantastic information on purpose, by planting contradictions and mis-information into the texts, to fool the readers who want to be atheists, to give them fodder to reinforce their doubt, so as to protect the most valuable gift to mankind, his “free will” – which is his right to choose either god or chance. This is the working of maya, or illusion, also known as the “law of confusion,” which means that the mystical energies of maya will not force mankind to believe either theism or atheism, but will give many reasons on both sides, so that we have the free will to believe either one or the other. Real belief in god must be a free choice of love. God as being omnipotent, could force us to believe, by appearing all over the world in god-like visions for all to see, but that would be belief by means of force, not by free will.”

“Wow,” said Albert, “he’s our wonder boy, he did it again, teaching us old guys things so inconceivable, yet made simple by our precocious child.”

“It was the monks in saffron, and their books, everything is there, in the books and in the words of the monks, they know everything…”

To be continued in chapter 3, Rory & Einstein have more discussions about the origins of the universe

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Commentary on “Law of Confusion” :

Achyutananda das once gave a class in LA, early 80’s, and said that Sri Madvacharya once said that Lord Krsna purposely puts little contradictions into the sastra, just to facilitate doubting souls who are looking for holes in the philosophy, to give a little fodder to bolster their atheist mentalities. The Bhagavad-gita states that Lord Krsna knows what desires are in the hearts of the jiva, and facilitates that desire. If someone wants to doubt Krsna, then Krsna will help him do that, will direct him within the heart to focus on contradictory glitches in sastra, so that he can fulfill his doubt, so he can justify material desires.

Bg 7.21 purport – “As the supreme father of all living entities, He does not interfere with their independence, but gives all facilities so that they can fulfill their material desires.”

Sadaputa writes in his book, “Alien Identities” – “The basic idea is that in order to preserve the free will of human beings, it is necessary to withhold information from them and even bewilder them with false information.

“Vedic ideas can throw a great deal of light on the nature of the law of confusion. According to the Vedas, the material world is fashioned out of an energy called maya. Maya means illusion, magic, and the power that creates illusion. The basic Vedic idea is that the universe is created as a playground for souls who seek to enjoy life separately from the Supreme Being. If these souls were in full knowledge of reality, then they would know the position of the Supreme, and they would know that such separate enjoyment is impossible. The universe is therefore created as a place of illusion, or maya, in which these souls can pursue their separate interests. Another aspect of the Vedic worldview is that the Supreme Being wants the materially illusioned souls within the universe to return to Him. But for this to be meaningful, it must be voluntary. The real essence of the soul is to act freely out of love. Thus if the soul is forced to act by superior power, then this essence cannot be realized. For this reason, the Supreme Being tries to give the soul the knowledge of how to return to the Supreme in a delicate way that does not overpower the soul’s free will.”

From Srimad Bhagavatam- “Having awakened faith in the narrations of My glories, being disgusted with all material activities, knowing that all sense gratification leads to misery, but still being unable to renounce all sense enjoyment, My devotee should remain happy and worship Me with great faith and conviction. Even though he is sometimes engaged in sense enjoyment, My devotee knows that all sense gratification leads to a miserable result, and he sincerely repents such activities.” Srimad Bhagavatam 11.20.27-28

Srila Prabhupada told us of the story of the cobbler and the Brahmin and Narada Muni. Narada often went to see Lord Narayana and one day the Brahmin requested him to inquire from Lord Narayana when he, the Brahmin, would go back to Godhead. A cobbler made the same request to Narada. So he went to Lord Narayana and asked Him when the two devotees would go back home. Lord Narayana said the Cobbler would promptly go back home, but the Brahmin had more lives to do. Narada was surprised and asked why. Lord Narayana instructed Narada to tell both cobbler and Brahmin that He, Lord Narayana, was threading an elephant through an eye of a needle, and see how they react. Narada did as told, and the Brahmin balked at the story, saying “bah, impossible.” But the cobbler fell into ecstasy upon hearing the story, saying “my Lord can do anything.” The moral of the story teaches us a “central point” that Lord Krsna is always testing devotees by presenting contradictory situations, which seem materially impossible, and then He observes how they respond to those situations. He puts little glitches into the cosmic landscape, just to test our faith.

Cc Adi 16.81P- “The central point of all Vaisnava philosophy is to accept the inconceivable potency of Lord Visnu. What sometimes appears contradictory from a material viewpoint is understandable in connection with the Supreme Personality of Godhead because He can perform contradictory activities by dint of His inconceivable potencies. Modern scientists are puzzled.”

The man wielded such authority; it was evident that the man was sculpted by fate to alter history. There was a bad feeling all about him, yet he seemed to be surcharged by the power of destiny. There was no other explanation. Babru was no match for those champion eyes, he was crushed, his eyes turned away, broken, you could see it in his face. I saw something else … surrender to a master. It was the pivoting point in Babru’s destiny. That moment altered his life for good. That moment struck a pain in my heart, for I knew something had changed our world to an impending nefarious ending. Babru looked into the face of Medusa, and his future turned to stone. The man came in, we all sat down. His unbreakable eyes fixated on Babru, he said, “You’re the one I seek.”

Once you eliminate the impossible, what remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth!

Part 3 of Sherlock and the tweeking of time

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After pausing a few moments, Chandra declared with raised voice and utter confidence, “But we are knowing! … yes … we are knowing of the primal cause of all the planets and everything in creation!”

Watson’s mind explodes upon this remark, thinking, What audacity! They claim to know things that we do not? How preposterous!

“It is said by some man in your country,” continued Chakradari, “that once you eliminate the impossible, what remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.”

Upon this remark, Sherlock’s eyebrows rose ever so slightly.

“So, we must eliminate the impossible idea of a great creative power suddenly emerging from nothing … then creating all these wonderful things we see … this amazing life and the harmonious beauty of nature. No, that is an unfeasible proposition, it is completely unthinkable. That … is a ludicrous phantasmagoria of the mind! That idea cannot be rationally contemplated … and so it cannot exist! It is merely a concocted myth.

“Therefore … we must accept the reasonable idea of a supremely intelligent and powerful Entity, Who is commonly known as God, Who always existed in all times, past, present, and future, Who was there, before this universe, Whose intelligence and power created this universe, no matter how improbable one thinks this to be…”

Indeed! They are using my own words, and my own logic! thought Sherlock. It seems that they have used my logic to defeat these arguments of science, 100 years before such thesis are even written down upon paper! … how extraordinary!

But Watson seemed to scream this thought into the ether, But still, you have no experience of this God whom you claim to exist before the creation!

Chandra said, “Yes, some of you are probably thinking that we too have no experience of God. It’s true, you cannot see God through your microscopes or telescopes, nor can you force Him to appear by your wishing or insisting for His appearance, nor can you find Him in out in space via some spaceship. God will not reveal Himself to any arrogant man, but only to those who follow the eternal path of purification given by the saints … and then they will get experience of God, it is certain … as many thousands have experienced and seen God in the past … just as some men see Him in these present times.”

Chakradari said, “Men of these times, and men of the future, they all think that they have created some new theory of the origin of everything, of how we came to exist, of how atoms came into being, and how they arranged themselves into planets and such, and so on. These are the theories of materialism vs. theism.

“However … there is nothing new under the sun … as the saying goes … as these materialistic theories have existed on this earth since time immemorial. Both contentions of atheism and theism are as old as time itself.

“Many ancients have propounded the theory of selfish materialism, which is to say that … to put it in their words, “neither is there a God, nor is there a soul, nor is there an afterlife, nor do karmic reactions exist. We only concern ourselves for the results visible in this world … therefore let us spend our time in sense pleasures, and not worry for future reactions to our deeds.”

“These ideas were propounded in ancient times, such as in China, wherein the atheist Yangchoo said as much, and in Greece, the atheist Leucippus, and in Central Asia, Sardanaplus, who all said these thoughts, and in Rome, Lucretious said the same, and many others, in many countries, wrote books propounding these ideas of selfish materialism.

“And there has always existed the theists, the vedantists, who, with the evidence of direct experience, and the numerous scriptures and holy books, have propounded the existence of the supreme God, Sri Krishna, a singular supreme being, Who created the world and living beings, and Who is all pervading, and Who created this fine-tuned karma, or the stringent law of cause and effect … the exacting cosmic justice to all the activities of humans.”

[some of the remaining lecture is a little tedious, and therefore omitted…]

Then Chandra Ghosa and Chakradari gave thanks and bowed in gesture to the end of their lecture. The audience arose with buzzing amazement and intrigue over what they just heard.

And so, Sherlock’s mind was crowded with many thoughts of the ramifications of all this information given by the monks, he thought, Yes, this God question is the oldest enigma of mankind, there are thousands of thesis put forth by theologians to exhaust all questions and answers on the subject. Yet, these monks give information of some purificatory process of which they claim that many a man has gained some sort of sensory experience of God, an extraordinary assertion indeed! … and so … I could not claim myself to be a true detective, if I do not pursue the evidence trail of such a monumental claim! This appears to be the grandest mystery of all times…

…. and so it was that Sherlock and this game of cosmic preponderings … this most penultimate adventure of his entire life … was most definitely afoot!

* * * * *

Note: The plot marinates within the author’s mind for a spell, and he foresees the future events to unfold after the audience exits the McConnely Hall and disburses throughout the London fog … and we see Moriarty hatch his plan that quickly forms within his mind, how he abducts the 2 monks in a back alley, whisking them away in his limousine, and how the monks enter his car without protest, with a thin smile upon their faces, for they are seeing past, present, and future, which is the power that Moriarty seeks, because he wants to be famous as a prophet, and he forces the monks to build him a time machine, so he can go to the past and the future and cause chaos and get complete control of historical events. Sherlock and Watson are also transported to the future to use the internet, to wrangle with Moriarty, and Sherlock contacts the Hare Krishna monks, and he learns the authorized path of purification, so that he can eventually see that Lord Krishna and His deity form are one and the same, and know that the existence of God is a scientific fact, and the reservoir of all pleasure, revealed to those who follow the simple process of purification.

Moriarty’s agenda;

Moriarty says that the Vedas are a work of genius, but fiction, like Shakespeare, and somehow the authors of Krishna and Vedas were such genius authors, to manufacture a fiction that gathered millions of millions of people to believe in their deity as god himself, and this started a religion that went on for thousands of years … same with Christ and Buddha and all other religions, … but in truth, it is all fiction … nature is wonderful, and supreme, but a mere man never created nature or this world of planets and stars, the world is not created by any man. Moriarty will prove this by going back in time, sending his men back in time, and force the authors of Vedas to confess that their work was fiction, and nothing more. In this way, Vedavyasa was just another Shakespeare, just another author of fiction. And people love the idea of a personal god who is protecting them, but that is just a fantasy, it is all a big fictitious world taken as fact by the millions who desperately needed their deity. The only superior man is he who controls all other men, the king, or the Ubermeinch of Nietzsche, He who rises above the herd, in other words, Moriarty is the true god of all men, who will deliver man from his illusion of a deity in man’s image, and a supposed creation by these man-like deities … by going back in time and exposing the charlatans … there are 3 kinds of men, rulers, the ruled, and he who is above all rules, the Ubermeinch.